Lost
by Ashesofthesoul
Summary: Two years, seven months, twenty nine days, thirteen hours and fifteen minutes. It had been two years, seven months, twenty nine days, thirteen hours and fifteen minutes- no, make that sixteen now- since Antonio had lost himself.


Two years, seven months, twenty nine days, thirteen hours and fifteen minutes. It had been two years, seven months, twenty nine days, thirteen hours and fifteen minutes- no, make that sixteen now- since Antonio had lost himself. It had started off so small that, at first, he had scarce noticed. He woke up one morning, and he just wasn't as cheerful as normal. He thought nothing of it- maybe he hadn't gotten enough sleep and was just feeling a little grumpy, it happened. But the next day was no better. The day after that passed the same, and Antonios mood continued to sink, slowly- so slowly he didn't notice until he realized that he _couldn't_ smile anymore- that he had forgotten how to. It was like drowning, he often thought to himself in the silence of the night. One minute you're swimming fine, and the next, you're fighting to keep your head above water. There's no sudden event that pulls you under.

That was how it was for him anyhow. He hadn't realized how much worse it could get.

Now Antonio had, by all standards, a wonderful life. He had graduated head of his class in high school. He was in university now, studying to be a doctor. He really wanted to help people, he always had. He was an incredibly attractive man. He had a gorgeous boyfriend who he had been with since grade eleven. He had absolutely no reason to be depressed. At least that's what everyone told him.

But that lucky man wasn't what Antonio saw when he looked into the mirror. ' _Ugly…_ 'The voices whispered, curling around him like smoky shadows, blinding him to the rest of the world. ' _Look at you! It's no wonder no one cares!'_ Their words were like poison, and Antonio often tried to argue with them. At first. "No! That's not true! F-feliciano cares… he loves me!" He would cry out, tugging at his hair and covering his ears loudly, trying desperately to drown them out. Eventually he stopped trying. They were right. They had to be.

Feliciano was the first to notice that Antonio had changed. After five years together, he knew Antonio inside and out. Something was wrong. Feliciano had tried his hardest to help, to figure out what was going on. But as time passed, Antonio grew more and more distant from his lover. He barely talked anymore, just looked at the world with those big green eyes, devoid of all emotions. Deadlights. It was like looking into deadlights, an empty of carcass of something that was once human.

Feliciano stayed. Others would have walked away, given up, but not him. Antonio was everything to him, and he was determined to save him.

Two years, seven months, twenty nine days, thirteen hours and seventeen minutes. "Come on, Toni, you have to eat. I made you your favorite!" Feliciano's own smile was becoming more and more forced as the days passed. Some days were better than others. Some days, a ghost of a smile would cross his lover's lips.

Feliciano lived for those days.

He lived for the moments late at night where Antonio would lay in his arms and let the Italians fingers brush through his hair and down his back. When the Spaniard would sniffle into his chest and whisper that he loved Feliciano, and that he would try to beat this.

Those promises were always lost in the morning.

It wasn't Antonios fault. Feliciano knew that. It was so easy to make promises in the moments of clarity, of lucidity. But then the haze would return. The voices would return, and Antonio would start to scratch. He didn't even notice he was doing it any more, that was what hurt Feliciano the most. Every time was the same. Feliciano would reach out and catch the others hand. He'd cradle them to himself almost desperately, pressing caring kisses to every fingertip. He'd whisper that he was there. But the moment he let go, those fingers were back at the Spaniards arms.

And then Feliciano realized something. He hadn't smiled in a while. His smiles were hollow, his laughs empty. His eyes had lost their luster. It had been slow, like a creeping death, slowly sucking the joy out of him. It wasn't Antonios fault. And he finally understood. And so he would lay in Antonio's arms at night, fingers loosely gripping the fabric of the others sleep shirt. Neither spoke. They didn't have to, they finally understood one another. They were lost in the darkness, but at least they finally had someone to be lost with.

Twenty three days, eight hours and five minutes. It had been twenty three days, eight hours and five minutes since Feliciano lost himself.

But it was alright. Because together, they were one day closer to finding a new, stronger them.


End file.
